This story was inspired by a song by 3 Doors Down, and even though I'm usually a Clintasha shipper, I just sort of thought that it suited these two instead.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or the song. I apologize for any mistakes.
In my head there's only you now
This world falls on me
In this world there's real and make believe
And this seems real to me
You love me but you don't know who I am
I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand
And you love me but you don't know who I am
So let me go
Let me go
Natasha Romanov growled, her fist flying forward and slamming against the solid punching bag. Her body actually felt as though it was going to collapse, given how long she had been in this gym. It had been hours, and her fingers felt like they were breaking in the gloves she had on her. She was pretty sure her feet were bleeding, or at least o the cusp of it, from not wearing any protective shoes and attacking the punching bag anyway. Her body was aching, but she refused to stop while her mind was still running in double time.
I love you.
She spun around and slammed her foot against the bag with as much force as her tired body could gather.
I love you, Tash.
Her fists lashed out, so quickly that she couldn't even tell where one punch ended and the next began.
I love you.
"Fuck!" She finally growled out as she felt something in her fist give after one last vicious jab and she stopped, gripping the punching bag and letting out harsh breaths as she tried to get through the pain in her hand. She rolled her shoulders and then stepped back after a few minutes, unwinding the straps of the gloves and wincing as she saw that one of her fingers was bent at a wrong angle. Without giving it a second thought, she clicked the joint back into place and let out a hiss through clenched teeth. "Fuck," she repeated, but she didn't sound as angry now. In fact, her voice sounded kind of broken.
Tears flooded her vision but she swallowed them back, swiping at her face and wincing as the rough movement jolted the inflamed joint in her finger.
I love you, Tash. How can you not see that by now?
Why the fuck did he have to bring that up? Everything had been going so well. Well, maybe not everything. The world still managed to screw itself up every couple of days, but her life, for once, was on track. She was fighting next to her best friend, she was with a team that she actually trusted—relatively. Sometimes there were days when she still felt nervous around Wanda—and she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend. That was never something that she had seen in the cards for herself.
And not just any boy.
One of the most amazing men in the whole country—and she wasn't joking. There were multiple surveys and polls done by trashy magazines and late afternoon show hosts that Natasha would never admit to paying attention too that had shown this.
Captain America.
But to her, he was just Steve Rogers.
The first time they had properly met, on the flight deck of SHIELD's Helicarrier, she had been too preoccupied with the fact her best friend was missing to really pay much attention to him. Plus, there was the fact that her best friend was also under the control of some almost Godlike figure with daddy issues. So she really hadn't had the opportunity to appreciate the man.
They had grown closer since then. Throughout the whole Loki vs New York fiasco, and then there was his old friend, James 'Bucky' Barnes. That had definitely messed things up with Steve a little. And it wasn't just that, but there was the betrayal of SHIELD as well, which had lead to Steve almost dying at the hands of his old friend.
Bucky was now on their side, or at least, he wasn't against their side anymore. He sort of drifted in and out of the shadows, helping them out when they had no other choice but never sticking around for very long afterwards. Steve told her once that she had come home from the Avengers base and found Bucky in his home, sitting in his arm chair with an old framed photo of them in his hand. They had sat there for a few hours, not talking very much, but it had been enough to make Steve realize that hope wasn't lost. That his friend was still in there, and he was fighting against the serum to come back to him.
The day after is when he kissed Natasha for the first time.
It had a year since then, and they were officially a couple.
It was the strangest, most amazing thing she had ever been a part of, and also the scariest.
And it had just become even worse when he had uttered those three words.
I love you.
"Natasha!" Steve called out as he passed her in the hallway. She quickened her step slightly, but his longer stride caught up with her in no time, and he grasped her elbow, jerking her into an empty room and pushed her up against the wall. "What the hell, Tash?!"
"What?" Natasha snapped at him. He pressed his lips shut at the sound of her anger, but the look on his face was one of her hurt. Natasha hated being the reason behind that look, and she scrubbed her hand down over her face. "What?" She repeated in a quieter voice. He stared at her for a long moment until he swallowed and glanced down.
"Coulsen wants us in Ops," he muttered. "He wants us to debrief from the last mission."
"Right, I'll be there in a minute," she replied, her words clipped. He obviously wanted to say something more, something nothing to do with work, but he didn't. He gave her a short nod and headed back out of the room. Natasha watched him go, and the feeling in her stomach just grew. They worked together pretty much every day, and spent almost every night together, but it had now been three days since they had properly spent any time together and she was missing him like a missing limb. But she had seen the way his face had fallen when she hadn't returned his sentiment. In fact, she had pretty much done the opposite of saying the words back, by turning on her heel and running from the apartment. He could have caught her if he wanted to, but he knew that pushing things with her would have only made things worse.
The tension in the Ops room was pretty clear. Natasha stood next to Clint Barton, her partner, and that wasn't unusual, but normally Steve would be at her other side. This time, he was next to Sam Wilson, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His neck was stiff as he was careful not to look in his girlfriends direction, staring at Maria Hill and Phil Coulsen. The debriefing didn't take long, and then Phil dismissed the lot of them, letting them know they had the rest of the day off, and to keep their phones on them.
"'The hell is going on, Nat?" Clint asked as they walked out of the room.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped back at him.
"That's bullshit," Clint grabbed her elbow to stop her from walking, and pulled her hands up so he could look more closely. "Did you beat up Captain America?" He asked with a scolding tone to his voice.
"No," Natasha hissed, pulling her bruised and battered knuckles away from her partner and shoving them into the pockets of her hoodie. "No, we just...I just—we're fine," she stuttered out. A couple of agents walked past them, including Sharon Carter, who looked as though she was going to stop and say something, but when she saw the expressions on their faces. She shot them a quick smile and then kept on walking. "We're fine," Natasha repeated, but Clint knew her better than that.
"What is it, Nat?" He asked her softly.
"He told me that he loved me," she murmured. She took in a deep breath and Clint continued to stare at her, his face unchanging. "He told me that he loved me, Clint," she repeated.
"Yeah?" He lifted an eyebrow.
"Okay, once again, he told me that he loved me," Natasha repeated, exaggerating the last words.
"Right," Clint nodded and his lips pulled upward in a smirk. "You realize it's obvious to everyone? I mean, Laura has only seen the two of you together three times, and she knows that you are meant to be together."
"Well, we are together," Natasha muttered. "But that doesn't mean that we...Love each other," she spat out the words as though they tasted bad in her mouth.
"You love him, Nat," Clint said. She opened her mouth to protest but he just shook his head sharply. "Don't lie to me, don't even try. I know you better than I know myself—you have exactly zero chance of getting something over on me." Natasha swallowed hard and her shoulders slumped. "Why can't you tell him?"
"You're screwing with me, right?" She snorted. "He's Captain America. He's, like, the single most honourable and righteous person in this country. I was in the KGB. I got paid to torture and kill people. I liked it. I traded up for SHIELD, but I still have that history, and even here, one of the main reasons that Fury will send me out on something is because my moral compass doesn't stop me from bending peoples constitutional rights when it fits our circumstances! I don't deserve someone like him—I don't deserve that kind of ending!" Clint slammed his hand down hard on the wall next to Natasha's head and she jumped.
"Don't talk like that," he growled at her. "Don't you ever talk like that. Laura would slap you stupid if she heard you say something like that."
"Yeah, well—"
"No, Nat!" Clint snapped. "If you're not ready to say how you feel out loud, then that's fine. Then that's your business. But you're my partner, and I love you, and you never, ever say to me again that you don't deserve him. That you don't deserve to be happy." She flinched and Clint shook his head, expelling a breath through his nose. His hand shifted from the wall to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly before letting it fall back to his side. "Look, I need to get off the floor, I'm going kind of stir crazy." Natasha gave him a small, knowing smile. "Give me a call if you want to talk, yeah?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "Thanks, Clint."
"No probs, Nat," Clint told her, already taking off at a jog for the doors that lead outside. Both Fury and Coulsen had tried to forbid him from going into the rafters or onto the roof top, but no one could keep Hawkeye on the ground. This was something that they had learned to understand over time.
Natasha still dreamed about what she had done, sometimes.
The things she had done when she was younger, before she knew any better, and then into her teenage years when she wondered if she really was on the right side of things. It didn't matter though, she had given them her word and they owned her, so even when she had her doubts, she continued to do what they asked of her. When she was in her younger teen years, she had searched for means of escape and kept coming up short until one day she was confronted by a young SHIELD agent with a bow and arrow.
Clint had saved her.
Clint had saved her body, Steve had saved her soul.
She wasn't the girl she was when she was younger, but she still had the skills and the mind-set that she had then. There were times when they would have someone in the interrogation cell and Fury would send her in to persuade them to talk. And by persuade, he meant use her little pen knife that she usually kept in her boot to inflict maximum amount of pain in such a short amount of time.
She didn't think twice about it because she knew that this was the right side. She was working for the good guys, and she knew that beyond a sliver of a doubt.
But Steve didn't care.
He didn't care if they were the good guys, or the bad guys, or if the people they needed to interrogate were the worst sort of men out there, he thought that everything should be done by the book. They didn't need to rough them up, to drive them to that brink where they were forced to tell the truth or they thought they were going to sink into a pain filled coma.
It was different for Natasha, to try and see things through his eyes. And it made her want to be a better person.
But it also made her feel guilty when Steve looked at her with this intense gaze that told her she was everything to him. At the beginning, it was rough and it was hard, because Natasha didn't know any different. But he had broken her down over time, and things had started going slower, and feeling deeper. He would lay underneath her, and trail his fingers gently over her torso, down her thighs before dipping into her. He would move his hand slowly, lovingly, building up the burn deep in her stomach before suddenly curling his fingers and watching with a small smile on his face as she fell over the edge.
And then he would whisper soft nothings as she crumbled onto the bed next to him, and he would wrap his arms around her and hold her until she fell asleep.
She knew that he loved her.
She wasn't stupid.
Maybe she had never experienced the romantic kind of love, but she knew that the way he made her feel was love.
Natasha was back in the tiny gym on the basement level of the Avengers base that no one ever went to. It was the least well kept room in the whole place, and part of the reason for that was because Natasha had practically begged Tony not to touch it. It was behind the hanger, and there was a single line of tiny windows right near to the top of the room that didn't open. She was the only one who came down here, with the exception of Steve and Clint, but they only came when she let them.
Which wasn't now.
Which was why Steve felt as though his stomach was going to fall through the floor as he walked into the small room.
"Tash?" Steve asked, swallowing hard as he watched her fists flew toward the punching bag. She had been there for a long time, sweat was beaded at her forehead and dripping down her back. She had stripped out of her shirt, and was just wearing a pair of leggings and a sports bra. Her hair was a dark red mess around her face, her face bare of make up, and she was still the single most beautiful person Steve had ever seen. "Tash?" He repeated a little louder, taking a few more steps toward her. He saw her flinch at his voice, her fists falter, and then she was spinning around, her leg smashing at the punching bag and sending it whirling around in a circle.
"Yeah?" She panted, looking at the floor at his feet.
"Why are you running from me?" His voice sounded pained as he came up closer until he was only inches away from her.
"I'm not running from you," she responded, but her voice sounded weak, even in her own ears.
"I know why you're running," Steve stated, shoving his hands into the pocket of the sweatpants he was wearing. Why did he have to wear those sweatpants, Natasha groaned inwardly. She loved it when he wore those grey ones, with that dark blue tee-shirt that clung to his perfectly carved chest and arms. It almost made her mouth water, and if she let herself look at him and then raise her eyes to meet his, she knew that she was going to crumble right in front of his eyes. "You're running because I told you that I loved you." At the sound of those words again, Natasha felt her blood run cold in her veins. "And you think that I'm lying."
"No, no, I don't think that," she muttered.
"Then you don't feel the same," Steve continued.
"No, that's not it," she replied sharply and he actually felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in the past week.
"Then what is it, Tash? Because there's never been a girl that I've felt this way about—not even Peggy, and for a while there, I thought I loved her," Steve said, his voice clear. "But that's nothing compared to how I feel about you." He reached out his hand and touched her arm, letting out a hiss through his teeth when she jerked her arm away from him. "Natasha—what is going on?!"
"I don't deserve you, Steve!" Natasha finally blurted out. "You should be with someone so much better than me!"
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Steve cried. "We've been together for over a year, and this is only coming up now?!"
"No!" Natasha spat at him. "No, of course I've thought about it before! But you kind of sealed the deal and made it an absolute fact when you said those words."
"Those words?!" Steve asked sharply. "Those words?! I said I loved you."
"Stop saying that!" Natasha shouted at him, looking up at him and meeting his gaze for the first time since he had come into the room. "Stop saying that, stop saying that, stop—" it almost sounded as though she was going into shock and Steve reached out, his hands clamping down on her shoulders and stilling her.
"Natasha—come on!" Steve snapped at her, feeling his patience fraying.
"Steve, stop it!" Natasha jerked her arms away from him, taking a few steps back. Steve followed her backwards, growling under his breath as she ducked away from him. He half heartedly reached out for her again, but she spun away, keeping just out of reach. "Steve, you just need to leave me—" he snatched out again, this time getting close enough to feel her hair brushing over his fingers.
"Natasha!" Steve actually tried this time, grabbing one of her arms. She tried to pull herself away, but his grip just tightened, drawing her in so that she was pressed against him. She slid her leg behind his, hooking it around his ankle and pulling tightly, so that he was falling backwards onto the exercise mats. He brought her down with him though. Her automatic reaction was to try and trap him between her thighs, which she did without even thinking as she tightened her legs on either side of his arms, locking him in place. Steve didn't look as though he cared, laying beneath her, but his eyebrows were still furrowed. "Natasha," he repeated, his voice a lot softer this time.
"Steve," she replied, breathing out through her nose. Her thighs loosened around his arms and he pulled one out, resting it on her leg and squeezing gently.
"I love you," he said earnestly. Natasha swallowed hard as she stared down at him. Her whole body relaxed from it's tense state, and Steve easily shuffled her down his legs so she was straddling his thighs, and pulled himself into a sitting position. He circled his arms round her waist and held her in close to his body. "Why can't you accept that?"
"Because I don't deserve it," she repeated her earlier sentiment, looking down. But instead of getting angry, Steve just put one finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"And why do you think that?" He murmured.
"You don't know what I've done," Natasha exhaled heavily through her nose. "You have no idea of the things I've done in the past—or the stuff that I do for SHIELD now!"
"Tash," Steve shook his head and let out a short laugh. "I know everything." She blinked at him. "I know everything, I always have. I'm the Captain, remember?" His lips pulled upwards in a half smile. "I need to know about everyone under my charge."
"Under your charge?" Natasha lifted an arched eyebrow. Steve's eyes darkened, but not in a way that said he was annoyed or pissed off. It was a love that made her stomach turn over. His hands shifted from his waist to move and take her wrists. He brushed the soft skin with his thumbs, but there was no mistaking the strength in his hands as he held her in his grip.
"I know everything," Steve murmured, his voice dropping a couple of octaves. "I know everything about you, Tash. And don't for a second think that it changes my feelings for you." Natasha pulled in a breath from deep in her stomach as his hands started inching up her arms. He reached forward and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, which was still a little sticky from sweat. "I don't care," he placed another kiss on her collarbone. "What you've done," this time he brushed his lips over the base of her neck. "Or what you do now, to keep us save," his tongue flicked out over her pulse point and he relished the sharp breath that she took in. "I love you," he didn't kiss her again, but the emotion in his voice was so clear Natasha knew that she was going to be hearing for days afterward.
"I," she swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment, before dropping her gaze to meet his. "I love you too," she finally said, her voice hoarse. The smile that broke out over his face was enough to get rid of any pain or doubt that she was still feeling. "I love you too," she repeated, her voice a little louder now, clearer, more absolute. "I love you too."
So? Did you guys like it?
And yes, of course I needed to have some Clintasha friendship in there, because I will never not have those two being friends.
Let me know what you think!